


Blaze of Glory

by MissJacki



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Ending, Canon Divergance, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Curtain Fic, Depression, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Dean, Hurt Sam, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm, Torture, season 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 18:15:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11788704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissJacki/pseuds/MissJacki
Summary: After losing everything, Sam becomes deeply depressed and decides he cannot live this life anymore and wants to hang it up. After careful consideration with Dean, they decide whatever happens, they'll do it together.





	Blaze of Glory

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the epilogue or you will be confused.

8 am Monday morning, Sam returned to the bunker from his five mile run. He could smell the bacon as soon as he opened the heavy steel door, and immediately, his stomach growled. He made his way to the kitchen, where he could hear Dean singing along to Blaze of Glory on the radio. 

“Mornin’ Jon Bon Jovi, Have you seen my brother around?” Sam teased as he opened a cold bottle of water from the fridge.

“The old man wishes he had a vocal cords like mine.” Dean answered as he mockingly sang into the spatula. Sam couldn't help but smile at his brother’s enthusiasm, and turned to wash off his face and hands.

“Do I have time for a shower?” Sam asked as Dean gently turned the bacon over in the pan.  
“If not, I’ll make time, you stink. Scrambled or fried?”  
“Two egg whites with spinach.” Sam saw the look of disapproval come across Dean’s face as he hung his head in mild aggravation.  
“Sammy, we talked about this. I don’t need you passing out with hunger while we’re on a hunt, because you’re watching your girlish figure. 3 full scrambled eggs, cheese, 6 bacon, 2 slices of toast.” Dean started the breakfast bidding.  
He always started off higher than he knew Sam would be hungry for, and Sam always started lower. Eventually, they would meet in the middle. Why not just say what he wants and skip the silly game? Because Dean liked to feel needed, and Sam liked to let him know he was.  
The breakfast battle was settled on; 2 egg whites, with spinach, and cheese, 2 slices of bacon and 2 slices of toast, and then Sam went off to shower. 

The brother’s didn’t talk much over breakfast. Both ate while scanning the internet for strange deaths, or cattle mutilations. Dean had to wipe the bacon grease off his hands before reading the text he just recieved on his phone. It was from Mom.

Message: I found him. Bring the lance. 

The message was followed by a set of coordinates. Their Mother had finally found where Lucifer was hiding. Of all the places in the universe that an Archangel could hide, he chose an old shack about fifty miles north of the bunker. So close, it was as if he was baiting them to come mess with him. Which he probably was. 

Dean had fixed Michael’s Lance, the one that Crowley had broken at the lake house to save Cas from dying, after Ramiel had pierced him with it. It took weeks for him to find the proper alignment of the sigils crafted into the shaft, and almost as long for Sam to find a spell to reset the magic behind them. However, without the blood of an Archangel, it wouldn’t poison Lucifer if he was pierced with it, giving him a slow painful death, it would just cause him, or anyone else pierced by it, to explode in a blast of fire and ash. Nasty piece of work it was, but any way they could destroy Lucifer permanently, was good enough for the Winchesters, so they packed it carefully in the trunk of the Impala and drove out to meet Mary. 

In less than an hour, they met Mary at a gas station three miles from the shack.  
“This is as far as we can go by car. We have to hike the rest of the way. It isn’t too far” Mary said as her sons pulled the necessary weaponry from the trunk of the Impala. Michael’s Lance was separated into 2 pieces, a necessary modification Dean made, to make it easier to transport. Dean looked around at the light traffic of the small town they were in, then to the woods that began just across the highway. 

“I don’t feel good about making the hike in daylight, we won't have any cover to protect us.” He handed Sam an Angel blade, and tucked one up his own sleeve.

“I know Dean,” said Mary “but I saw him take two girls into the shack. Blindfolded and bloody. They won’t last long.” Her sons could hear in her voice that she doubted they were still alive as they stood there. Sam checked his gun to make sure it was loaded and tucked it into his belt. Dean held the cloth wrapped lance under his arm and closed the trunk with his free hand. 

“Alright, let’s do this” And with that, the trio made their way into the woods.  
The elevation and terrain made the three mile hike seem like twenty. Once they had the run down shack in sight, the family of hunters sat on the ground to take a rest. Sam took a drink from his bottle of water and leaned back against a tree, to catch his breath. The last two hundred yards of their hike was at nearly a 45 degree angle, slick with mud. Dean fumbled through his bag looking for his flask, ( it must be afternoon by now), and noticed Sam rubbing a kink out of his thigh.  
“Bet you’re glad you had that run this morning eh Sammy?” Dean said with a smartass smile and took a swig from the flask.  
“Yeah” Sam replied with sarcasm “and even more glad I had a big breakfast.” The look of discomfort on his little brother’s face, made Dean almost regret making him eat so much that morning, but it was pretty cold in this thin air, and it would help keep him warm. 

Lucifer stood invisibly next to Sam. Arms crossed and grinning. Listening to Dean tell the others his strategy, to get in, find the girls, Mom and Sam can carry them out, while he himself would wield the Lance of Michael and “Dust that sonofabitch once and for all!” Lucifer mimicked Dean’s voice with exaggerated gestures, without being heard by the Winchesters. He then crouched down next to Sam, tauntingly breathing his ice cold breath against his face. Sam sat up quickly, rubbing his cheek, and looking around. “Guys? Did the temperature just drop like, 20 degrees?”

Mary and Dean looked around at the trees. No leaves were moving, there was no breeze. “That can’t be anything but good news.” Dean spoke with obvious cynicism.  
They all stood, gathering their gear, ready to head towards the shack, but Sam let out a painful yell, and was gone in an instant. Disappeared! Mary spoke in a panic “Dean! Where is he? Where did he go?” her eyes darted around the woods fruitlessly. 

“SAAAAAAM!!!” Dean shouted at the top of his lungs. He didn’t care if that red eyed bastard saw him or not. He knew he took his brother. Grabbing his mother by the arm. “He’s got him. We gotta move… NOW!” and the two sprinted toward the shack. 

Sam awoke slowly, groggy. He could tell immediately his arms were chained above him. The warm blood he could feel dripping from his temple, and the ringing in his ears, told him he had been hit hard. Another blow came from out of nowhere, square in his gut. He shouted in pain, now fully regretting that big breakfast as he spit out a mouthful of blood. It was pitch black, or was he blind? He couldn’t see anything at any angle, but he could smell him. That hot sulfuric smell that Sam could never get used to. Not in any of those one hundred eighty years with him. Lucifer was close. 

Lucifer paced around Sam. “You know Sammy, your brother is little more than an annoying rash to me. But you, you’ve always been entertaining.” 

Sam heard his voice slowly circling around his head, and swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. “You know Dean and my Mother aren't far behind right?” Sam wouldn’t let him see his fear.  
“Oh I'm counting on it. But I won't let it be too easy for them to get in here. I want to have a little fun first before I kill them.” Lucifer snapped his fingers, and Sam felt his right knee snap along with it. Dean could hear him scream from a hundred yards away. 

Outside, Dean and Mary rushed headlong through low hanging branches, leaves and twigs snapping and cutting their faces and necks.  
“SAMMY!! WE’RE COMING SAM!! HOLD ON!!!” Dean prayed he could hear him. The clearing was just a few yards away, so Dean screwed the lance together, dropping the cloth on ground. Mary let out a quick scream “Dean I'm stuck! Help!!” Dean turned to see his mother knee deep in black mud, and sinking. He tried to run to her, but his own feet were stuck up to his bootlaces in the muck, and sinking deeper into it. “No No No NOOOOO!!” 

Sam fought back the pain in his leg, and tried to grow strength from it to free his wrists from the shackles. However, the more he struggled, the tighter they became, and he could feel his skin tearing inside them. 

“Settle in roomie. We have all the time in the world” Lucifer stopped behind Sam and stroked the back of one finger through Sam’s hair. Sam flinched in repulsion.  
“Why don't you just kill me? End this game forever.” Sam’s voice was pleading.  
“No no no Sammy, I'm not gonna kill you. That’s no fun. In fact, I'm gonna keep you alive for centuries… maybe forever. You’ve always been my favorite chew toy.” Lucifer grabbed a handful of Sam’s hair and tugged his head up. “Our first game is gonna be an easy one though. I’m just going to make you watch.”

Lucifer snapped his fingers and light from torches on the walls filled the room with a sick orange glow. Sam could see for the first time since he got there, and could see two young girls, in their late teens, shackled to the wall; heads slumped over, unconscious. Their hair was matted, clothes torn, but they were alive. They started moving as though the light woke them up. They began whimpering in fear almost immediately.

“You let them go!” Sam snarled. He tried harder to pulled against the shackles, as blood began to stream down his arms. 

“No, see Sam, they’re here for my entertainment too. They’re here because of you. You and your self empowered, blood fueled, super hero family. If you would have just stayed out of my business, let a few little demons and monsters torment a few little people, we wouldn’t be where we all are right now would we?” 

Sam’s jaw clenched in rage. “They’re innocent, you have no right to them. If you want to torture me, do it…..but let them go” Sam begged knowing it would make no difference.  
“I told you to give me your vessel, and you wouldn't. If you did, you would already be dead and at peace in your own little dream world, and I would be far away from here, wreaking havoc in Canada or somewhere out of the way, but you couldn’t do that. You had to be the big….. bad…. hero” Lucifer spoke in a whisper in Sam’s ear. He snapped his fingers and one of the girls exploded in a blast of blood that sprayed out far enough to splash Sam in the face. The other captive let out a blood curdling scream.

Mary and Dean had sunk waist deep into the muck. Dean had put the lance to the side, in hopes to swim over to Mary, but it was too thick. They heard the girl’s scream from outside and struggled harder against the mud, which only seemed to make them sink faster. “STOP! STOP!! Ok… breathe. Let me think.” Dean closed his eyes to gather himself. Then he remembered what his father had taught him decades ago. He reached for the lance and laid it horizontally in front of him and used it as leverage to pull himself up. Once he could get himself onto solid ground, he stuck the lance out to his mother to help pull her up. 

“You good?” Dean asked his mother, who returned the question with an unsure nod. “Alright, shake it off, we gotta get inside” They ran as fast as they could with their clothes still weighing them down with mud, it felt like miles were just added on to this trek. No sooner did they reach the porch, than Dean shattered a window with the lance. No time to see if door were unlocked. They both climbed through the window while shards of glass cut their hands and legs.  
It was silent. Dean called out once more. “SAM?!!” but got no screams, no sound at all. Nothing. 

 

 

The young girl’s blood began to dry in streaks on Sam’s face. Tightening on his cheeks and neck. Feelings of guilt and regret were beginning to overpower the pain radiating from his arms and knee. “How could I ever let it get this far?” He thought to himself. Powerless to do anything to help the surviving girl, who had just watched her friend explode, he offered the only comfort he could. “I’m so sorry.” Her eyes met his for a moment, but offered nothing in return. She lowered her head and cried. 

“This is what I was talking about Sammy,” Lucifer continued his slow pace around Sam’s weakened body. “You’re powerless against me. Really you are. You think you’re brave, and noble, and you and your brother ‘save the world’ “ Lucifer used exaggerated air quotes “but all you’ve really done, was make it worse.” 

“Go to Hell!” Sam spat in Lucifer’s face. He had to keep his wits about him, or the Devil would win for sure. Lucifer laughed at the irony of the command. 

“You have to work on your quick responses Buddy, that was pretty redundant.” The once great Archangel wiped the spit off his face. “The fact is though, I don’t need Hell anymore. I have everything I want right here! I have you, my frigid little prom date, chained up and ready to do anything I say.” 

Sam tried again to pull his hands free from the cuffs, but it only made the blood flow faster. 

“Go ahead Sam. Pull harder. You’ll tear free eventually. Here, let me give you a hand.” With a filthy grin, Lucifer snapped his fingers again, and Sam felt his wrist dislocate from his hand. If he tried to pull away again, his hand would surely tear off. 

He let out a deafening scream that was heard above.

Mary and Dean were trying to find hidden panels in the walls or floors when they heard Sam’s painful cry. “That’s coming from outside!” Mary exclaimed. Shuffling to his feet, Dean stormed out the back door, stopping to listen for his brother. He heard nothing but distant birds. 

“Okay Mom, look around for a shed, or a door for a storm cellar. Anything. They have to be close!” Mary slowly circled from the back of the shack to the front, as Dean swept leaves off the ground with the lance.. 

Sam was barely holding on to consciousness when Lucifer slapped his face “C’mon cowboy, no naps for you. Playtime hasn’t even started.” Lucifer circled behind Sam. He slowly lifted the back of his shirt, as Sam flinched in horror. 

“Don’t touch me you freak!” Sam hissed.

Lucifer laughed in response. “Yeah like that’s ever stopped me.” And ran his hand along Sam’s belt until he found what he was looking for…. Sam’s gun. He pulled it from it’s place on Sam’s hip and held it to it’s owner’s temple. 

“You won’t do it, “ Sam says. Chest heaving from pain. “You won’t kill me or your game is over.” With half a grin, Sam believed he found Lucifer’s weakness. 

Lucifer put a finger to his own lips “You’re right Sammy, I won’t kill you.” And aimed the gun at the captive girl, and shot her in the thigh. Her voice breaks in the scream as though she has barely any air left. The Devil held his mouth just a cold breath away from Sam’s bloodied ear. “I'm going to shoot, and cut, and tear her body apart and make you watch!” 

Tears began running down Sam’s cheeks, leaving trails of white skin beneath the dirt and blood.  
“What the hell do you want from me?” Sam’s words begged for a deal. 

Lucifer grinned with enjoyment knowing he had Sam right where he wanted him.  
“What do you think I want bunk buddy?” Sam’s body shook in horror. He swallowed hard to hold back the vomit rising from his gut.  
“I want your body.”  
Lucifer winked. 

Above ground, the Winchesters heard the gunshot, but nothing else. Mary held her head “Oh God no, Please God please!… help us save my son!” Dean’s heart broke right along with his mother’s. It had gotten too quiet, too fast. He wrapped his arms around Mary while she cried into his chest. With closed eyes, Dean spoke a silent prayer to whomever might be listening. “Please God. Help us. Give us a sign that there’s still hope. Bring my little brother back. Please.”  
Dean held his mother for a moment longer, and waited for a sign. When he heard nothing, he took a deep breath to regenerate some strength in his own pain riddled body. 

“Okay Mom, let’s keep looking. I know he’s here.” He called out to Sam at the top of his lungs, and listened. He didn’t hear his brother yell back, but he heard something rustling in the leaves nearby.

“You want my vessel? Still?” Sam was almost shocked to believe that after everything, Lucifer would still wanted to take over his body.

“Of course I do, it was meant for me.” Lucifer replied while looking Sam over. 

“I thought you didn’t need it anymore. Your vessel is strong enough now right?”

“I don’t need it now Sam, this can hold me forever if I want. But who wants to drive a Ford when they were promised a Porsche?” Lucifer stroked Sam’s chest. Sam winced away from his touch.

“I won't ever let you have it, so why don't you just move on?” Sam was too tired for these games. It’s been completely overdone. 

“I could do so much more with your body Sam. More than you can imagine. I wouldn’t just rule Hell with it, I would rule the world. Like I was supposed to.” Lucifer was relishing the pain and exhaustion in Sam’s face, but it was time to lay it all out. 

“I’ll make you one last deal. You say ‘yes’ and I’ll heal the girl. I’ll send your mom and brother home safe and sound. Sure, they’ll miss you, but they’ll get over it. But if you say ‘no’ the girl dies, your precious little family dies, and you stay my personal play thing for eternity. And the best part is? It will be all your fault….. Again. So from where I’m standing Buddy, you have no other choice.” 

“Shhh shhh” Dean held a hand up at Mary to urge her to be quiet. He knew he heard a rustling. Was it someone walking? He heard it again. Too small for a human, or Archangel, but it definitely got his attention. A breeze blew through and raised some of the leaves on the ground. Over to the left, near the edge of the woods, the dry leaves swirled in a small whirlwind and the rustling became louder. 

Dean moved stealthly towards a small pile of leaves that appeared to be moving. He stuck the lance out and moved the leaves gently to the side to reveal a small snake. Dean wasn’t the biggest fan of snakes, so he grimaced and tossed the snake into the woods with the tip of the lance. Removing the leaves, and the snake, revealed what looked to be a metal handle, to a wooden door in the ground. “Hmmm” Dean cocked his head. “I’ll take that as a sign.” And pulled the creaky door open with ease, revealing a decaying set of stairs leading down. 

“Storm cellar?” Mary inquired  
“That would be my guess. I say we have a look.”  
Mary clicked a flashlight on and followed her oldest son down the wooden steps.

 

While Lucifer continued trying to break Sam down, Sam saw the pale blue glow of a new light coming from a short hallway on the other side of the dirty cellar. “Someone opened a door!” He thought to himself, and almost mystically, he could feel the presence of his big brother nearby. Sam tried hard to hide the relief that was washing over him at that moment. He would have to keep Lucifer’s focus a little while longer. He lowered his head, to appear to be passing out, and Lucifer slammed him hard across the face to wake him back up. The hit was so hard, Sam could feel his cheekbone crack and knew blood was streaming from below his eye. 

“I said no sleeping Sam. Not until you say the magic words.” Lucifer gripped Sam’s face forcing him to look him in the eye.

“Go fuck yourself!” Sam swore and spit a mouthful of blood in Satan’s face.  
Lucifer licked it off his lips like it was the best meal he ever tasted. 

“Now that’s the Sam I know and well…. Coveted. Do it again girlfriend, I can dance all night.” And punched Sam with the force of a semi, on the other side of his face. 

Sam could feel consciousness slipping from him. It took all his strength just to hold his head up, but he could now see his mother and Dean sneaking up behind Lucifer. 

“Get away from him you pig!” Mary exclaimed while sliding the Angel blade from her sleeve and held it to Lucifer’s neck as he turned to greet them.

“Oh Hey Mary! Long time no hide and seek. I see you brought some more snacks to the party.” Lucifer smiled obscenely at Mary, as Dean came up alongside of her, revealing Michael’s Lance. 

“Hi Dean! You’re looking pretty buff. Is that a Lance in your pocket or are you happy to see me?”

“You’re finished you winged piece of dog shit. Move away from my brother, and take it like a man!” 

Lucifer stepped away from Sam, towards Dean and Mary and crossed his arms in defiance.  
“Do you really think that toothpick can kill me?” Lucifer taunted. 

“Let’s shove it up your ass and find out.” Dean moved Mary aside “Mom, go take care of the girl.” 

Lucifer stood between the brothers, waiting for Dean to make a move. Sam watched Mary approach the teenager who hadn’t made a sound in quite a while. Sam’s heart sank.  
“She’s dead.” Mary said, while her fingers were still trying to find a pulse. Sam’s eyes stung as his tears mixed with the blood and sweat. “Another one” He thought. “One more dead because of me”

“Dean” Sam spoke in nearly a whisper. His throat sore and dry like sandpaper. “Go. Take mom and go. You’ll be safe I promise. I’m done with this. All of it.”  
Dean could hear the pain and defeat in Sam’s voice. Something he hadn’t heard in years, or maybe his lifetime. He could hardly see his eyes behind the swollen cuts and bruises on Sam’s face. 

“No Sam, I'm not going anywhere without you, and neither is Mom.” Dean spoke with such conviction that Lucifer appeared threatened. 

“Oh you’re not Rambo? You think you and Mommy are gonna kill me and take baby bro home with you?” Lucifer giggled “That’s cute, really. The way you two think you have any power over me is just adorable.” 

“Dean please. Just go, let me fix this. I want you and Mom to be safe.” Sam’s head was swimming. He was going to pass out any minute and didn’t want to watch his family being killed. “I'm going to let him take me. Take my body, so no one else has to die.”

“No Sam, that’s not even an option. This asshole can go……” Dean’s words came to a halt as he saw the point of the Angel blade come through Lucifer’s chest from behind. Mary had stabbed him clean through. Bright blue light streamed from the wound and Lucifer staggered. 

“KILL HIM DEAN!!” Mary yelled before Lucifer grabbed her by the throat and flung Dean across the room with a wave of his hand, making him drop the lance and smash into the rocky wall before landing unconscious on the cold floor. Lucifer, visibly wounded, red eyes glowing, turned to Sam as he held Mary by the throat over his head. 

“Deal time is over Sammy. Say good-bye to Mommy.” 

Mary looked at Sam one last time “Don’t give up Sam. I love you.” As Lucifer snapped his fingers once again and Mary exploded in a wave of blood.  
“NOOOOO!!” Sam screamed. His mind couldn’t even put together the thoughts for any other words. “No no no no no.” 

Lucifer staggered slowly to the other side of the room where Dean lay motionless and bleeding from his head. Sam couldn’t even tell if he was alive, when Lucifer kicked him onto his back. 

“Please Lucifer, don’t touch him. Take me, whatever you want. Please don’t hurt him.” Sam pleaded.

“Oh I’m gonna take you Sam, but you’re going to watch me take your brother apart first. Just remember, you did all this. “ Lucifer kicked Dean in the ribs “Wake up so I can play with you, little bitch!” 

Sam could see Dean regaining consciousness, and saw Dean get eyes on the lance as soon as he could focus, but it was a good three or four feet out of his reach. Sam struggled against his shackles, knowing one good pull would free his right hand, not only from the cuff, but from his body as well. 

 

Dean punched Lucifer with all his might but the monster hardly moved. Even wounded. Lucifer straddled Dean’s torso and punched him in the face so hard, his nose was flattened and bloody. Dean still tried to stretch far enough to get his hand on the lance. Sam prayed with every breath in his body. “God please. Help me. Help me save Dean.” His body shook and heat rose from within his gut. He could hear the pounding of his heart, so loud it drowned out Lucifer’s shouts of rage. Blood streamed down his wrists making puddles on the floor. Sam drew a long violent breath and let out a roar. He looked down at the lance on the floor and as if by sheer will, made it slide across the floor into Dean’s hand. Dean looked at Sam in shock, but didn’t hesitate to grip the lance and drive it straight through Lucifer’s ribs. 

Lucifer stood, unsteadily. His eyes glowing red but focusing on nothing. His veins glowing in his neck. Dean scrambled to his feet and away from Lucifer. “Dean!! Over here!! Get away from him!” Dean took Sam’s commands and moved quickly to his brother’s side, just as Lucifer burst into a ball of light and fire. Dean would have gone up in flames with him if he had been slower. 

The brothers stood breathless as the Prince of Darkness fell in clumps of glowing ash and soot around them, and Sam blacked out.

Dean turned to look at Sam who was pale as porcelain. He managed to dig out his lock picks from his jacket and began working on the cuffs.  
“I'm here Sammy, stay with me.” His hands shaking so hard he could barely hold the tools. “Do you hear me Sam? Talk to me” Sam’s head flopped forward, his hair caked in blood and dirt. The first cuff was released, and Sam’s arm fell loosely on Dean’s shoulder. Sam let out a soft low moan. “Okay buddy, you’re safe now. We’re gonna go let real Doctors fix us up, just stay with me.” 

Dean could feel the bones in Sam’s wrist rolling in his hand, as he picked the last lock open. “Aww no Sammy, you’re gonna feel that tomorrow.” Sam’s arm fell so heavily on Dean’s other shoulder that they both collapsed on the floor. Dean held Sam tightly in his arms, as though he was the last person on Earth, and for Dean, he was. 

Sam cried. “She’s gone Dean. She’s gone. I'm sorry.” 

“I know little brother. Don’t you be sorry. This isn’t on you.” Dean stroked his hair “It’s not your fault.”  
Sam clung to his brother “Yeah, you keep saying that.”

 

 

As promised, Dean managed to get his brother and himself to a Hospital. He was treated for a broken nose, a concussion and a few cuts that required stitches, but after a night’s rest and some good painkillers, he was released. Sam’s injuries were more extensive and required more attention. His dislocated wrist and knee, facial fractures and blood loss, bought him nearly a week at Mercy General. “Sex party gone wild!” Was the reason Dean gave for how the boys had gotten so beat up. It wasn’t the first time he had to come up with a lie as to why he had brought Sam to the ER with injuries he had no believable answers for. 

Dean went back to the bunker and packed some clothes for himself, shorts, socks, and T-shirts for Sam. Gathering up the 2 laptops and a bag of snacks he went back up to the Hospital where he sat with Sam for the rest of his stay. When he could finally bring his little brother home, he helped Sam down the stairs and to his room. He made sure Sam had the TV remote nearby and headed to the kitchen to make them a good lunch. 

Dean came back to Sam’s room with a tray of food. “I made you grilled cheese and tomato rice soup. Think you can eat?” He asked as he took a bite of his own sandwich. 

“I think I want a handful of opiates and to sleep forever.” Sam answered without a word of lie. 

Dean knew there was truth behind the statement, but didn’t draw too much attention to it.  
“If you eat something, you can have two painkillers, and I’ll let you get some sleep. Deal?”  
Sam nodded and took a cautious bite from his grilled cheese. It hurt his cheeks to chew, but he had had worse. 

“I’ve gotta ask Sammy, “ Dean set his food down. “That was some luck back in the cellar when the lance mysteriously rolled close enough for me to grab it. Did a stiff breeze blow in, or did you Jean Grey that sucker?” Dean saw a hint of shame come across Sam’s face. 

“It was me. I don’t know where it came from, it just….. Happened. I'm sorry.” Sam couldn’t meet Dean’s eyes. He was afraid he would see worry on his brother’s face like he did years ago. That worry that he was a freak…. A monster.

“It’s okay Sammy, I'm not mad, I'm just trying to understand.” Dean never forgot that Sam had such powers, even before he met Ruby, but they were both sure they were gone once Azazel was dead. 

“I didn’t know that power was still there. Honestly.” Sam glanced at Dean to see his face. He wasn’t angry, he was just concerned.

Dean nodded. “Well, I had no idea either, but you saved our lives, and that dick head is gone forever. I'm actually grateful.” Dean smiled warmly at his brother, and picked his sandwich back up and took a bite.

He watched Sam’s face as he ate. The swelling had come down but the bruises were darker. It had been about a week since Sam had shaven, and his beard was growing in thick and dark around his jaw. Dean touched the stubble softly “I’ll help you shave later if you want?” 

Sam responded with half a smile “Not today, maybe tomorrow.” 

“You’re starting to look like an old man.” Dean joked.

“Take a picture, it’s probably as close as I’m gonna get to being an old man.” Sam said as he blew into the soup on the spoon.

Dean sighed and turned his head toward the TV. Sam’s morbid tone over the past week was wearing on him. Sam hadn’t talked much at all about their most recent traumatic event, and when Sam didn’t talk, Dean knew he was trying to work it out in his head. Untying mangled thoughts and grotesque images of blood and horror that no one else has seen besides his brother. Sam would lay all these mental pictures out in neat rows in his mind, and then pack them away in orderly psychological boxes, to hopefully never be seen again. This practice would kill him one day. Dean was sure.

After lunch, Dean gave Sam his meds, as promised, took one for himself and sat bedside while Sam slept. 

The brothers rested a few more days, and while Dean was reading an article on the laptop in the library, Sam limped into the room. Freshly showered and shaven, and looking more like the Sammy, Dean was used to. Dean felt a rush of relief come over him at this sight. “Hey Sleeping Beauty, you look much better. How you feelin’ ?” As Sam took a seat across the table with a cup of coffee. 

“I feel alright I guess,” Sam said “A little more like me. What are you reading?” 

“I saw a case out in Nebraska, looks like a Spector. I’ll see what other hunters are in the area and get them on it.” Dean let Sam have a look at the article. 

“You’re not going out there yourself? Sounds like a milk run.” Sam took another sip of his coffee.

“Nah, not while you’re still on the inactive list.” 

“I'm fine Dean, I can take care of myself. You go do your thing, don’t let me hold you back.”  
Dean gave Sam a long worn out look. 

“What?” Sam questioned

“You still don’t get it do you?” Dean answered sharply.

“What??”

“You don’t hold me back.” Dean ran his hands over his hair in frustration. “I need you there to have my back. I need to have your back. You don’t ‘hold me back’ Sam... You hold me together.”

Dean got up from the table and took a beer from the mini fridge. Sam watched Dean with wide eyes. He forgot sometimes that Dean was never really at his best unless he was right beside him. He really didn’t want Dean to go out on his own, what if he needed back up and no one was there? Sam would never forgive himself if anything happened to his brother because he wasn’t there to help him. 

Dean offered Sam a beer, and Sam declined. He had only been awake an hour. “You know it kinda sucks really.” Sam broke the silence

“What does?” Dean asked quietly, while picking at the label on the beer bottle.

“We killed the Supreme Evil of the Universe, and there’s still monsters. There’s still evil.” A self deprecating smile formed on Sam’s face. Like he believed he failed and the world is still trashed. 

“We could have seen that coming. “ Dean responded with a hint of laughter “Hell I killed Death and people still die. Why would we think killing Lucifer would make any difference?” He took a long swig from the bottle.

“Then why do we do it Dean? It’s like trying to clean up a beach with a dust buster. It just never stops.” Sam looked up at the high ceiling, like it held the answers to all his questions. Dean could see his eyes welling through the fading bruises.

“Because it’s what we do.” Dean answered hollowly and took another drink. “You know Sammy, I dream of the day when you and I are old and crusty and sitting in our rocking chairs, talking about our glory days. Maybe it’ll all make sense then.”

Sam gave a huff of sarcastic amusement. “I used to dream that too.”  
Dean repeated Sam’s words to himself. “Used to” and finished his beer.

 

Many more days were spent holed up in the bunker while Sam recovered. His knee was much better, he could now take his morning runs. Dean removed the cast off his wrist himself with a handsaw, careful not to remove any fingers in the process. It was time to get back on that horse and fight the good fight again. 

They settled on what appeared to be an easy job of a rogue Werewolf who had killed three people in Louisiana. All had gone like a well oiled machine, until the Werewolf had Dean pinned and ready to bite. Sam pumped him full of silver bullets and pushed him off his brother. As Sam was helping him up, he saw Dean’s arm bleeding. 

“What happened? Did he bite you?” Sam fumbled to free Dean’s arm from his shirt to take a closer look. Dean was so full of adrenaline, he barely felt it. 

“No, he didn’t bite, probably just a claw mark.” Dean looked down at his fresh wound. It was a straight gash with black residue mingling in the blood. 

“Bullet graze. Looks like one got too close to me.” He looked at Sam’s face which was now ghostly white. Sam turned his head and bolted to the corner of the room where he began retching.

“Sammy, it’s ok, it’s not deep, I won't even need stitches.” Dean walked over and put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Hey Sammy, you good?” His brother was visibly shaking, and trying to hold back the dry heaves. Sam spit and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“I shot you Dean. I could have killed you.” And quickly walked out of the room.  
“Sammy, come on….Sam?” Dean knew a breaking point was reached.

Sam had made it outside, walking so quickly towards the Impala that Dean nearly had to run to catch up. “Sam, c’mon man, it was an accident. I’m not mad, you saved my life back there!” 

Sam stopped and clenched his fist like he was going to hit the car, but decided to throw a trash can across the alley instead. “Woah! Hey Sammy, get a grip! What’s going on with you huh!? Talk to me!” Dean’s tone was harsh, but he firmly gripped Sam’s shoulders. No doubt, Sam was having a full meltdown. His face was wet with sweat or tears, or both, Dean wasn’t sure, but he was determined to pull him out of whatever headspace he was in, and talk to him. 

“Dean, I almost killed you! Don’t you get it?” Sam tried to move free from his brother’s grip, but Dean squeezed tighter. “So what Sam? You didn’t kill me, I’m standing right here. It’s not like it’s the first time one of us nearly killed the other. Don’t go blaming yourself for this man, it doesn’t get us anywhere. It just gets you moping around and hating yourself. You can’t live like that!” 

Sam finally met Dean’s eyes. “You’re right. I can’t live like this.” Dean saw a look in his brother’s eyes that he’d never seen before, except for in his own reflection in the mirror. It was hopelessness.  
Dean released his death grip on his little brother, even though everything in him wanted to wrap his arms around him and never let go. “We jumped back in too fast Sammy, you’re not fully mended. Let’s just get a motel and some beer and drink till we forget why we started.” 

“I think I just want to go home.” Sam faked a smile and got in the car.

Dean tried to make conversation while they drove through the night to get back to the bunker. Sam didn’t talk back much. He wasn't angry, or trying to be rude, but his head just wouldn’t give him a moments peace. Finally, when Sam rested his head against the window and closed his eyes. Dean turned the radio on and just drove. 

When they got home, Dean tried to get Sam to eat something, but he declined. “I just want to sleep.” Sam said, even though he had just slept for four hours in the car. 

“Okay,” Dean said “Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine.” Sam lied to Dean and himself. 

“Sammy? I…. “ Dean’s words caught in his throat as Sam looked at him puzzled. “I need you to be okay, that’s all.” Dean looked at the floor and walked towards the kitchen. Sam’s face softened and whispered to himself as he watched Dean walk away. “I need that too.”

Sam stayed in bed for most of the next five days, getting up only to use the bathroom, and once to shower. He almost tried to sit in the library that day, but his will was zapped even before he dried off. He had never felt so broken in his life. On the third night, he found himself in such a dark place, that he fully considered swallowing the rest of the painkillers, or even taking his gun to his own head, but couldn’t bare the thought of Dean finding him dead. Sam knew his brother would never recover from that. 

Like clockwork, three times a day, Dean would come to Sam’s room with a tray of food. He would bring enough for the both of them, and Sam would struggle to choke down at least half of what was on his plate. There was nothing wrong with the food, Dean was a very good cook, but the lump in Sam’s throat that never seemed to go away, made it hard for him to get through a meal. Every night, Dean would check on him before he went to bed, and ask Sam if he wanted him to stay and talk. Sam would always decline, but he knew one night soon, he would say “Yes”, and that would change everything. 

On the fifth night, Dean had cooked one of Sam’s favorite meals. A whole roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and greenbeans. He even tossed a salad that looked so healthy, Dean took some for himself. Sam seemed pleased to see Dean eating vegetables, and didn’t try to hide his smile, even though Dean had smothered it in Ranch dressing. Maybe the dark cloud that had been surrounding Sam since that horrible day was lifting. Dean’s heart filled with hope when Sam cleaned his plate and decided to shower after dinner. 

Dean hoped that after his shower, Sam would come sit with him in the library, and they might have a conversation, but again, Sam retired to his room. Dean decided to take the shower and full meal as a win, and not expect more. “Baby steps” he thought to himself, 

Around midnight, Dean checked in on Sam again. He was awake and sitting on the side of the bed with his face in his hands. Dean went in and pulled the chair in front of Sam and sat down. He put his hand on Sam’s head and spoke softly. “Sammy, please talk to me?” 

Sam had decided it was time. He had actually made that decision when he woke up that morning, but couldn’t think of the words to say. So now, with his brother so worried about him, he came out with the truth. 

“Dean, I’m done.” Sam looked his brother straight in the eye.

“Done? What do you mean, ‘done’? Done with hunting? What?” Dean feared what was to follow.

“Done with everything. I can’t do this anymore.” Sam’s voice shook. 

“You mean, you’re thinking of hanging it up?” Sam responded with a simple tear filled nod. 

“Why Sammy? Why don’t you let me help?” Dean’s eyes filled as well. The pain in his little brother’s eyes, cut him to the bone. When did life beat them down so much that they could no longer find comfort in each other? Dean could tell, Sam wasn’t just depressed, he was completely serious. 

“Dean,” Sam cleared his throat. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and I know this hurts, but I couldn’t just leave you without any answers. I don’t want to leave you at all, but I understand now. I’ve spent my entire life fighting evil, out there and in here,” Sam held his hands to his chest. “It’s never going away out there. I know now, it’s never going away in here either.” 

“Sammy…” Dean tried to interrupt, but Sam wasn’t finished. 

“Dean, there was something I was meant to do in this life, and I refused it the entire way, and so did you. We fought it tooth and nail and look where it got us. They’re all gone, our whole family, our friends, everyone…. Gone. We’ve protected each other, while everyone around us died.” 

 

Dean shook his head in disbelief. “We help people Sam, we SAVE people. Remember that Apocalypse that didn’t happen? Or the ones that followed? “ Dean rolled his eyes at his own words.

“You mean the ones we started? The ones that never would have happened if I didn't have demon blood in me, and you weren’t bent on saving my life? And why did you do it Dean huh? Tell me. It was because Dad told you to, and I'm your brother and family is supposed to take care of each other. You don’t know any other way, you were never given a choice. You just did what you were told.”

Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why after thirty-five years did this kid not understand? Sam was the smartest person he’d ever known, but seemed to lack common sense where it was most necessary. He fought back the urge to punch every self loathing thought out of Sam’s head. Hell, ten years ago, he probably would have tried, but Sam wasn’t being stupid, he was being desperate. 

Dean got up and paced the room, scratching his head. Sam was right, he was told to take care of Sam no matter what the cost, but he was never told to love him. Loving him was just always there, and Dean loved him in every stupid way imaginable, even those few times he hated him. Sam and Dean were not only brothers, they were part of each other. Soulmates. Two sides to the same coin, and there was no sense in trying to continue in a world that didn't contain the other. 

Dean felt himself overwhelmed with sadness. Not only his own, but Sam’s. Sam had lived through everything. Literally everything, and had always managed to come out the other side stronger, more focused, and more forgiving. Sometimes Dean had felt himself envying Sam’s (seemingly) never fading optimism, and ability to find good in even the worst people and creatures, so why couldn’t he find this in himself? Dean blamed his own inability to convey his thoughts and feelings properly. Maybe if once he had let his little brother talk more, instead of just telling him he was wrong, especially when half the time he was right. He prayed for one more chance to make it right.

Dean returned to the chair in front of Sam. Sam sat on the edge of the bed with his head down,  
rubbing his hands together. 

“Sammy, how long have you felt like this? Like giving up.” Dean looked down at Sam’s hands as he still rubbed them together. He noticed the wounds from the shackles were healed over into deep scars, but saw some fresher wounds that hadn’t had much time to heal. He swallowed the jagged boulder growing in his throat, and gently took hold of Sam’s wrists to get his attention, and also let him know he noticed the fresh cuts.

Sam looked up at him with dark helpless eyes, wet and rimmed with red. “Always…. I think.” Sam sniffed and cleared his throat. “Sometimes more than others, but more often in the past few years. This last confrontation with Lucifer, and losing Mom again, brought it back up.” He felt shame in admitting he’s felt weak and unstable, but he needed to come clean with Dean, he may never have another chance. 

“But dude, that wasn’t your fault. Lucifer is the fucking Devil himself! There’s not a man in the world, not a single one, who could stand up to him the way you have.” Dean tried to remind him of his courage. 

“But you have. You’ve never been scared around him, and I was terrified of him.” Sam argued.

“That’s because he scared me shitless” Dean smiled and laughed a little “You know me, when I'm scared I'm all mouth. But yeah Sam, the friggin’ Dark Lord scared me too. And you know what? I wouldn’t have been brave enough to let him take over my body so I could jump into Hell while he rode my bones for all eternity. But you did. That took a lot of balls brother, I’ve never told you Sam, but you’re a hero to me. Always have been.” Dean could see a smile form on the corner of Sam’s mouth and took it as a sign of hope. 

“Hero huh? I never would have thought that.” Sam didn’t try very hard to hide the smile. 

“Yeah well, don’t go blabbing it all over, I do have a rep to protect.” Dean smiled in return. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” As if guilt fell over him again, Sam pulled his hands back away from Dean and rubbed his wrist. Feeling convicted by the thoughts in his head, and stood up. “The truth is Dean, I've never felt like I belong here.” 

“Sam..” Dean started but Sam continued.  
“I’ve felt like a freak since I was a kid. Like I’m dirty, tainted…. Like a monster in a human body.”  
“Sammy you know that’s not your…..”  
“I thought, Azazel dying took that evil crap out of me, but that wasn’t the case. Then I thought my time in Hell, or, the Trials did, but they didn’t.” Sam stood in front of the mirror, angry at what was looking back at him. “But then when I made the lance come to you with my mind, I knew, I’ve only been covering it up and ignoring it.” 

Dean stood and went over to Sam. “Do you remember when the Mark nearly took me over and I was becoming something I never wanted to be? What did you tell me?” He gripped Sam’s shoulders and turned him to face him. Sam shook his head. “You told me, I wasn’t evil, the Mark was! You told me I’m a good man Sam, so why do you think you’re any different?” Dean was shaking his brother, as though it would wake him up. 

“You don’t have the Mark anymore Dean, I still have the demon blood. I proved it in that cellar!” Sam raised his voice. “ I can’t make it go away, and all I do is get people killed or worse! Usually people I love! I almost destroyed the world while trying to save you, and then I almost killed YOU Dean!! I can’t do this anymore!” Tears poured from Sam’s eyes. “I’ve had enough. I’m just done.” He made his way back to his bed and put his face in his hands. Dean walked slowly back over and sat down on the bed next to him. He put his arm around his little brother, and kissed the top of his head. 

“Okay Sammy, I understand. But do something for me alright? Sleep on it. Just one more night okay? If you still want to cash it in tomorrow, I’ll help you, but we’re gonna do it together.” 

Sam straightened up “Dean, I don't want you to….”

“It’s not up for debate. We go together or we don’t go at all. Understand me?”  
Sam nodded and hung his head.

“So, you gonna sleep on it for me?” 

“Yeah, I promise.” Sam whispered.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Sam hesitated for a moment then wrapped an arm around Dean and leaned into him.

“Yeah.”

 

Dean didn’t sleep. He lay there just listening to Sam snoring. He had missed hearing it now that they didn’t share motel rooms nearly as much. It reminded him that his little brother was still breathing, so, everything must be alright. When Sam woke, he looked more tired than Dean felt, so they went to the kitchen for coffee. No one spoke a word about the night before, but Dean worried that since Sam didn’t like the idea of him checking out alongside of him, that he would do something when he wasn’t around, so Dean spoke up.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Dean asked

“Alright, all things considered I guess.” Sam answered “Did you sleep at all?”

“No, there will be time enough for that later. Do you still feel like today’s the day?”

Sam looked stoically into his coffee cup. “Yeah Dean, I'm ready, but you should stay. You won't be alone, you make friends easily. You can find another hunter and keep fighting.” Sam waited for a response but Dean didn't look up from his cereal. “Dean? Are you gonna….”

“Do you even hear yourself Sam?” Dean was obviously pissed. “I said this isn’t up for debate and I mean it. If you haven’t figured out, with everything we’ve been through, that I can't do this without you, then I don’t know how you missed it! I'm not worried about being alone Sam, I’ve been alone many times and if I get bored, I go to a bar and find a girl, or a dude to play pool with, but I’m only okay, if I know you are. If I can hear your voice, even if it’s yelling and cursing me out. If I know you’re okay, then so am I!” Dean got up and tossed his bowl into the sink; breaking it. He thought about cleaning it up, but knew it made no difference in the long run. 

Sam sat still at the table. “I wasn’t trying to fight with you Dean, I was just…”

“I know Sam, but you don’t get it.” One tear escaped Dean’s eye. “I love you little brother. Don’t you ever think….. Just don’t think anything else.” He headed off to his room before Sam could answer.. 

Sam was taken aback by those words. He’d never heard Dean say them, to him anyway. Not to anyone but Mom. For the longest time Sam had believed that she was the only person Dean would ever love, but now he knew he was wrong. 

“So….. what happens now?” Sam asked awkwardly, when Dean came back to the kitchen. 

“We clean up. Leave this place better than the way we found it too.” Dean said as he started picking the broken bowl out of the sink. 

 

The next 3 hours were spent cleaning the bunker. The brothers mopped floors, tossed away perishables from the fridge, but put non-perishables in a bag to take to a local food pantry. They washed down walls to any random blood splatters that they might have missed before. 

They cleaned the shower room and the toilets, and then cleaned the bedrooms of their personal belongings. Sam left the TV, it was a shame to throw it away, it worked just fine and if any other hunter or Man of Letters moved in later, they would probably be grateful. He even threw away everything in his momento box, except a few pictures he tucked in his pocket, Dean’s amulet, and their Father’s wedding band that Dean wore for years, and put it on his own right hand. All his clothes were put in bags to take to Goodwill. 

Dean did the same in his room. All his clothes in bags for Goodwill. He left his vinyl albums, maybe a future hunter or Man of Letters would appreciate them. He emptied out his drawers, throwing everything away except for a few pictures, and a small cloth bag with a simple tie, that he slipped into his pocket. 

They took about a dozen trash bags down to the incinerator in the basement, and stood for a moment and watched everything burn to ash, like the countless bones they’d burned, and bodies of hunters and friends who fell in the good fight. Both said a silent good-bye to the men they were.

They walked slowly through the bunker, one last time making sure everything was in order and turned off lights and the water. They stopped at the table in the Library and Sam traced his fingers over the initials S.W D.W they carved into it not long ago. Dean gave a nod, like a salute to their memory. 

As they made their way out and locked the huge steel door behind them, Dean tucked the key in its original box. It didn’t matter what they did with the key if the Men Of Letters could still access it with their own keys, so no need to burn or hide it. They loaded the car with bags they were donating to charity and headed out. Once Dean dropped the last bag off, that was it. The Winchesters had officially gone out of business. They both felt heartbreak and relief at the same time. 

Dean slid into the driver’s seat of the Impala, and looked at Sam. “Hey... “ He tapped Sam’s leg as he stared into the distance. “You good?” 

“Yeah, I'm good. It’s just hard.” Sam said “I won't lie and tell you I don’t wish things were different, but they’re not. I don’t forget the good times we’ve had, and miracles we’ve witnessed. And the really awesome people and creatures we’ve met and loved in some cases, but it’s for the best.” Sam chewed on his bottom lip like he always did when he was nervous. Dean gave him a reassuring pat on the thigh.

“We don’t have to do this Sam, we can go right back to the bunker, and lay low for a while. This is completely up to you.” 

“No Dean, I'm ready. Are you?” 

“As always.” Dean said as he started the car.

“So… what do we do?” 

“Go get something to eat? I'm starving.” Dean said with a smile. 

They drove to a diner, outside of Lebanon. Sam thought Dean was kidding, but he put down $40 worth of breakfast food himself. Sam wasn’t hungry but got a three egg omelet with sausage, bacon and cheese, and a beer. He saw no reason why not, and Dean laughed with pride. “That’s my boy!” And Sam laughed for the first time in months. 

As afternoon wore on, Sam was becoming more aware of the reality he set before them. He didn’t know yet what the plan of action was, but was grateful to have some time to just enjoy being with his brother and laughing. But it was time. He wasn’t about to rent a crap motel for the night and go through all this again tomorrow, so he once again asked Dean what the plan was.

“Years ago, I found this place in the mountains, and I thought, if we ever decide we’re done, this would be a great final resting place. It’s a long drive though, so if you’re up for it?” Sam felt it was the least he could do. Dean was literally ready to die right alongside of him, so he was fine with whatever his big brother had planned. 

“Yeah Dean, let's do it.” They drove into the sunset, listening to music, talking, laughing, and almost forgetting where they were headed. Sam even dozed off for a couple hours. Dean didn’t disturb him, he took the time to thank God for giving him one more day with Sam. The Sam he’d known and loved his entire life. The nerdy, sensitive hulk of a man that didn’t have an evil bone in his body, even if he didn’t believe it. Sam got dealt the worst hand imaginable, but he played it for as long as he could. The few hours Dean had earlier where Sam was happy and carefree, was more than he could ask for. 

It was nearly dawn when Sam was jolted awake while they drove over railroad tracks.  
“Where are we?” Sam asked while he yawned. 

“Just a little ways out from our destination. You doing okay?” 

“Yeah. How about you?” Sam asked, kind of hoping Dean had changed his mind; and would just drop him off somewhere; go back to the bunker and keep The Family Business up and running. 

“I’m fine Sammy, this is your party, not mine, I'm just the driver. “ Sam stayed quiet as the sky began to lighten to the soft purple of the dawn. Part of him was tempted to back out, but the pain of his life came back to him. He knew that if they went back to the bunker, they couldn’t go on like nothing happened. Even if they hadn’t burned all their belongings, he knew it was only a matter of time before the next catastrophe. He felt in his heart that at some point, probably soon, he would end up accidently killing Dean, but this way, at least it was Dean’s choice and they would be together. Sam put his hand in his pocket and thumbed the amulet and took a moment to thank God for giving him one last day to be happy with his brother. 

Dean stopped the car at the beginning of a narrow road that led up the mountainside.  
“Think it over Sam, whatever you choose, I'm alright with, but once we get up this road a ways, I can't turn around. Is this really what you want?” Sam looked up at the road and the hillside.

“Wow! Go big or go home huh?” Sam opened his window and took a long deep breath. 

Dean put on sunglasses and smiled “Blaze of Glory style.”

“Okay Dean, let's do this.” Though he wasn’t sure what compelled him, he took Dean’s hand in his. Dean looked at their hands and adjusted his to fit more comfortably, but welcomed it. 

“And Dean?” 

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.” Sam’s jaw ached from holding back his tears. 

Dean smiled. “I know Sammy. I know.”

The Impala started her way slowly up the steep mountain side. Sam got more anxious every minute they were on this road that was barely wide enough for the car. Dean squeezed Sam’s hand. “Take it easy Sammy, it’s gonna be alright. I promise.” Sam swallowed dryly. Dean hoped he didn't have to try to pull over so Sam didn’t puke in the car. The thought nearly made him laugh. “We’re almost there buddy. Try some deep breaths.” 

Sam was breathing heavily, and reached down to the floor between his feet for a bottle of water he’d brought with him and tried to open the bottle without letting go of Dean’s hand. Dean chuckled at his struggle and let go of his hand and the steering wheel to open the bottle for him. He handed it over and took Sam’s hand again. 

“Watch the road please.” Sam said and took a sip, totally missing the irony. 

“Sam, I can try to turn this around if you want.” Dean said just to make sure he was still on board.

“No, I'm fine. Just keep going.” And chugged the rest of the bottle of water. Letting out a long burp when he was done. Dean laughed. “Impressive” and started driving faster. 

Sam wasn’t comfortable with how calm and ‘normal’ Dean was acting. Maybe he was just trying to keep Sam calm, or maybe the thought of plummeting to their fiery death was a relief for himself. Maybe he was as tired as Sam was. However, all Sam knew at that moment was even though this was his idea, he was scared out of his mind. Dean kept hold of his hand and could feel Sam’s palm getting cold and sweaty. 

“You’re not gonna go having a heart attack on me now are you Sammy?” Dean looked at his pale face and wide eyes. 

“Not funny.” Sam answered, as he tried to steady his breathing. 

“We’re almost there, close your eyes.” Dean said as the road bent to the right on a steeper angle. “Sammy, close your eyes.” Sam looked at Dean for a long second and did as he said.  
With eyes closed Sam could only hear the radio and the gravel on the road beneath them. In his mind’s eye, he pictured their times together when they didn't seem to care that the world was crumbling around them. Every laugh, every hug, every moment of watching the stars on those warm dark nights when no one existed in the world except them. 

The Impala accelerated and Sam’s heart lept. He kept his eyes closed because if there was anything horrific to see, he didn't want that to be his last image. He felt Dean squeeze his hand tighter, “Hold on Sammy.” and he felt the brakes lock and the gravel kick up into the undercarriage. His fear stretched this moment out for an eternity, and then, he felt like he was falling. “Is this what it feels like to fly?” He wondered. And then silence. 

 

 

“Sammy? Sammmyyyy?? Hey…. you with me?” He felt Dean gently slapping his face.  
“What?? Dean?? What happened?” Sam could see Dean’s face but couldn’t focus. 

“I think you passed out.” Dean said as he slid over and opened the car door. 

“Where are we? Are we dead?” Sam asked half confused and half panicked. 

“We’re home Sam, come out and see.” Sam regained focus and saw trees and grass. No fire or twisted metal. He felt his arms and legs just to be sure, and looked out to his right and saw a cabin. Relieved and shocked, he opened the car door and got out. His knees were shaky but everything was intact. 

“What is this place?” He asked as he began to find familiar aspects to the location. 

“Don’t you remember?” Dean asked. 

“Wait, yeah, this is one of Bobby’s cabins right?” Sam smiled as he recalled the huge lake behind the cabin. 

“More or less, “ Dean said “It’s ours now.” 

Sam walked along the grassy lawn to the porch. “Ours?” Sam stopped to touch the wood railing he remembered as a kid.

“Yeah, remember that summer we spent up here when you were nine and taught me how to swim in that lake?” Dean asked as he gazed out over the glassy water.

“Yeah I do!” Sam smiled as he recalled the memory, and took notice to a missing spindle in the porch railing.  
“Remember when you got your head caught in the railing and Bobby had to pull it apart to get you out?” Dean grimaced at the memory. 

They opened the door and took a look around the small but well kept space. There was a large living room with an attached kitchen, a decent sized bathroom with a big clawfoot tub, and a loft bedroom upstairs. It smelled of old wood, but Sam liked it. There were shelves with books along each wall, and a TV. Sam wondered if they actually had cable up there. He opened the kitchen cabinets to see it was stocked with bowls, dishes and pots and pans. Sam couldn’t stop smiling, and went out back to see the lake. It was beautifully tree lined and the clouds reflected off its smooth surface. 

Dean opened the fridge and found it stocked with beer. He did his signature “Yes!” first pump and pulled a cold one out for each of them. He went out the backdoor to see Sam smiling and looking at the frame of an old fishing boat. “I remember this, Bobby trying to teach us how to fish, and all we caught was some weeds and sunburn!” Sam touched it as though he was uploading memories from it, which wouldn’t have shocked Dean, his brain was like a computer. 

“Maybe we can fix it up, take it out fishing on nice mornings?” Sam’s face was beaming. Dean popped the top off the beer and handed it to Sam. Sam took a sip “Damn that's good!” and took three long gulps. “Dean, this is great! I can’t believe this place is still standing. OH MY GOD!! The friggin apple tree is still here!” Sam sprinted to the tree and picked an apple off and bit into it without even washing it. “Holy shit! Good apple!” 

Dean laughed at his thirty-five year old, nine year old brother, who now had apple juice dripping off his chin. 

“Are you happy Sam? Can we stay here? “ Dean asked hoping to get the right answer. 

“Here? Just me and you?” Sam took this into deep consideration. 

 

“Yeah, just us, looks like as good a place as any to call it a day right?” Dean took a swig of his beer. Sam looked around and took a deep breath. 

“No monsters?” Sam asked

“No monsters.” Dean replied. 

“No Apocalypse?” Sam raised an eyebrow

“No, no freakin Apocalypse.”

“Yeah…. Yeah Dean, I think we could be happy here.” Sam sat down on the wooden step on the back porch. Dean took a seat next to him. 

“We don’t have to do all that anymore little brother. We can stay here and let the other hunters take care of things. We’ve already done all the heavy lifting.” Dean’s heart was overjoyed to see Sam happy. 

“We sure did, didn’t we?” Sam’s eyes were staring out over the lake, and were now reflecting the crystal blue water. “Hmm I could plant a garden and grow veggies here.” Sam got up and started poking the area he wanted to turn into a garden with a stick. 

“Sure,” Dean agreed as he leaned back and swallowed the rest of his beer. “A lake full of fish, a garden full of veggies, TV, and just us? What more could we ask for?”

“A dog!” Sam replied with excitement “Can we get a dog?!” 

 

 

 

30 years later

 

Dean rocked slowly in his chair on the front porch of the cabin. The approaching sunset, cast a hazy orange glow on the tops of trees he could see in the deep valley below. He opened the green cooler alongside of him and pulled out two cold bottles of beer. He popped the tops off both and sat one on the lid of the cooler, while taking a swig of his own. The weather worn empty rocker on the other side, rocked slightly from a breeze that came in from the East, as if calling it’s owner to come take his seat. 

Dean had a beard now; grey to match his hair. Hair that he always managed to keep in the same style since he was a young man. Even off the grid, he kept himself well groomed. Green eyes, sharp as always, watched flocks of birds dive in and out of the tree tops below. Dean stared for a long time, until a barking dog broke the quiet. He looked off to his left to see an Australian Shepard run up from the side of the house and onto the porch to greet him, with Sam following close behind. 

“Good boy Riot! Lay down now.” Sam let out a breath of relief, as he took his place on the rocker beside his brother. Dean smiled at the sight. His little brother, sixty-five years old, still liked to go for a run, except these days, since there was no reason to be out of bed before noon, he liked to run the wooded trails around the lake in the early evening. Sam took the tie out of his ponytail and let his long silver hair lay in soft, damp waves along his shoulders. 

“Hey Fabio!” Dean teased with a smile. 

“Shut up.” Sam picked up his beer and took a long drink. 

“Why do you still run Sammy? It’s not like you need to anymore.” Dean could never quite understand running unless he was being chased. 

“I like it, it keeps me young.” Sam answered as he flexed his still defined arm muscles.

Dean laughed “Right, you aged past me in 2015 pal.”

“Oh yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” Sam fired back at his brother.

“What are you talking about? I look just as good as I did at thirty” Dean ran a hand through his hair.

“”Heh, yeah, you do.” Sam looked at his brother and nodded in agreement. Dean really did look good, and maybe even better than he did at thirty. He was no longer angry at the world, worried about what evil forces were going to turn their lives upside down, and most importantly, he no longer had to worry about Sam. He watched Sam thrive over the years, as if he were reborn, and in a way he was. No more monsters tossing him around, or finding a way to possess him. No Trials to endure or Apocalypse to stop, Sam could finally be Sam. 

The two watched the birds quietly, as their song echoed in the air. “The birds are flocking early, might be an early winter this year.” Sam observed from his rocking chair. 

“I say ‘bring it!’” Dean chimed in happily. Sam smiled at Dean’s contentment.

“You used to hate the snow, remember?” 

“That’s when I had to drive in it and salt would get all over my Baby.” Dean gazed down at his best girl, The Impala, and Sam looked at her too. 

“She’s still beautiful isn’t she?” Dean asked proudly. 

“Yeah,” Sam replied “she’s still kicking ass at 80 years old. Who would have thought?” 

“Who would have thought we’d ever make it out Sammy?” 

“Not me, that’s for sure.”

Dean snickered as though he remembered an old joke. “Hey, remember that time Crowley and I went to see Cain and these demons stormed his cabin and I fought off ten of them off single handedly?” Dean finished the rest of his beer while still grinning. 

“Wait, the way I remember it, you fought off three, and then Cain zapped you both out of the way and finished them off.” Sam laughed at Dean’s selective memory. “Nooooo that’s not how it happened!” 

“Yeah it was.” Sam still giggling

“What do you know, you weren't there.” Dean opened the cooler to get a fresh beer.

“Oh right, I forgot.” It was Sam’s turn to recall a memory “How about that time I killed all the Werewolves and saved those newly weds, Michelle and Corbin, and then Corbin turned into a Werewolf and attacked you, and I ganked him too?”  
“Wow Sam, I recall it a little differently.” Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother.

“Yeah? How so?”

“I kinda remember we stormed the cabin, you took out a total of one Werewolf before you lost your gun and another Werewolf shot you with it.” Dean looked at Sam and recalled the event clearly. 

“No, I specifically remember, we went in guns blazin’ and I……” Dean cut Sam’s words off

“You were gut shot and I dug the friggin’ bullet out of you myself. I even kept the bullet.” Dean reached into his pocket.

“No you didn’t, did you?” Sam watched Dean pull a little cloth bag out of his pocket, and pull out a tiny crushed bullet. “Why did you keep it?” Sam asked solemnly. 

“That hunt is etched into my brain permanently. I’ll never forget it. I saw you laying there, dead on the floor. You were gone, and nothing else in the world mattered. I had tried to save you and couldn’t. It felt like my own heart stopped and there was no air to breathe.” Dean’s mind drifted far away and Sam’s eyes widened like Dean was showing him a treasure, no one else had ever seen. “There was no one there to fix you this time, no Angels, or Demons, no spells to cast or deals to make. You were gone… and I couldn’t do anything.” Sam took the bullet and examined it, then let it roll in his hand. 

“I remember it too. You thought I was dead and you ODed, to try to deal me back.” Sam looked Dean in the eyes, that now looked shocked that his exposure. 

“How did you know that? I never told you.” This was something Dean wanted to keep to himself forever. 

“Michelle told me actually” Sam handed Dean back the bullet. “She came to my room at the hospital and told me I should know how much my brother loves me. That when you thought I was dead, you ate a bunch of pills in hope of finding an ‘evil scary death machine’ to try and save me.” Dean looked a bit embarrassed, but made no effort to deny it. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?” Dean asked

“I don’t know. I guess because if you wanted me to know, you would have told me when I asked you.” 

“Hm” Dean nodded in agreement. “Guess I wanted to spare you the gory details.” 

“So, what would have happened if Billie didn’t tell you I was alive?” Sam was pretty sure he knew the answer already.

“I would have just gone with her Sam. Let her toss my ass out into the Empty with you. And I’d find you, and we’d just be there forever.” Dean looked at Sam who seemed to be speechless. “I kept the bullet, because it reminds me of what it felt like to really lose you, and to make sure I never do it again.” 

“Well, I'm glad we both came out of it alive.” Sam said as he now watched the sun begin to set on the valley.

“Are you glad Sammy? I know it was touch and go with you there for a while.” Dean sounded unsure.

“Of course I'm glad Dean, we wouldn’t be here right now if we would have died back then.” And Sam really did love it there. Who would believe that sharing a cabin in the mountains with his brother would be his dream life. Not becoming some great Lawyer or even a leader of the Men of Letters. When it all came down to it, Sam only ever wanted love and safety. 

The sun set like a bright pink ball in the early September sky. Riot was sound asleep at Sam’s feet, and the world went on below. Sam often wondered why no monsters or demons ever came looking for them up there, but just wrote it off as they were glad the boys were out of their hair. 

“Do you ever miss it Dean? The hunting, the slashing, and punching our way through the country?” Dean grinned back at Sam, like he had been waiting for that question for years. 

“I think about it a lot, recall our glory days, but do I miss it? No, not at all. How ‘bout you?” Sam sighed and adjusted his position in the chair. 

“No, I don’t miss it. I kinda wish we had done this sooner. Might have saved so much drama. But I miss them…. The people. Well, guess they were all mostly people.” 

“What do you mean?” Dean asked

“I miss Mom and Dad of course, Bobby and Cas. Even Crowley and Rowena sometimes.” Dean nodded in response “But I believe now, that they’re all in a better place. I know it’s not the blaze of glory you hoped for, but I’m really happy we did this.” Sam clinked his beer bottle with Dean’s. Dean gazed at the last half of the sun dipping behind the trees, leaving the brightest pink and orange clouds in it’s wake. 

“That right there Sammy, is the only blaze of glory I need.” 

“Amen” Sam replied and reached in the cooler for another beer.

“Better slow down there old man, or you’re gonna be up ten times tonight to take a leak.” Dean poked at Sam.

“You should be happy I still get up to take a leak.” Sam laughed in response

“Oh… trust me… I am.” 

 

Epilogue

Sam and Dean spent countless days and nights above all the troubles of the world, in their own little slice of Heaven. They would grow vegetables, and try to fish every now and then, but they never caught anything. They would recall old hunts and each time the stories would get more grand and heroic, each one wondering if the other really even remembered them. 

No one else moved into the Bunker, in fact, in 2021, the state reclaimed the structure, since it was originally a power plant before anyone thought to make it a fortress, and it was torn down to make way for an apartment complex. Much of what was left inside, went to auction. The old cars, furniture, and the giant telescope, all found new homes, while the Lore books and artifacts were donated to Libraries around the world. 

The table on which the boys carved their initials, made it’s way to a University study lab, which ironically encouraged students to carve their initials in it as well. It’s no shock that the names Sam and Dean Winchester, were rarely spoken after a while, but there are those of us who will always remember them. Those who kept up with their story, and waited in anticipation every week to have a glimpse into their world, where ghosts just needed rest, and monsters looked like people. Where new worlds could be opened as easily as they were spoken, and nothing was more powerful in all Heaven and Hell, than Love. 

Sam and Dean didn’t realize the beauty taking place in the world below them, but if they would have just taken a stroll down the valley they would see. The last 4 letters of their story, that were originally their first. Down where grass and new trees grow and wildflowers bloom tangled among the melted metal frame, and through torn leather seat cushions. Through what used to be the back window of a once beautiful car, that used to be considered Home to the two boys who carved the first and last letters of their own story, in the now charred wood over the back seat. The story truly began and ended with them, an epic love story between two brothers.

S.W D.W

“You will always remember. Nothing equals the splendor. Now that your life’s no longer empty, surely Heaven waits for you” - Kansas


End file.
